There'll be killins' next!
by Possum132
Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds time to catch up with his old friend Severus Snape before heading down to Hagrid's hut to present Albus with an Order of Suspension, signed by all twelve of the school governors.
1. Chapter 1: Severus Snape

**There'll be killin's next!**

_This vignette isn't part of the seven part series that starts with "Why Snape never eats here" – it's just an opportunity to give Lucius Malfoy the dubious benefit of my attentions. However, if you read the series you will get a better feel for the particular version of the Potterverse in which this story is set._

**Chapter 1: Severus Snape**

Although it was spring, it was still cold at nights and he'd sneezed once or twice - he'd thought, this is bloody marvellous, on top of everything else I'm coming down with a cold, I'll have to take a goblet of Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potion when I come off duty.

But he won't be going to bed himself until all of the students, including prefects, are tucked up for the night and their common room doors have been warded by their Head of House - until then he's prowling the first floor corridors with the Bloody Baron, because the Headmaster wants the castle guarded, wants a watch kept for any and all signs of unusual activity. So he's standing, silent and wary, his wand in his hand, simultaneously tense and alert – and bored out of his brain.

To tell the truth, it reminds him more than a little of the old days, not the Muggle-killing raids - too easy, it was like shooting fish in a barrel - but the times when they'd hunted bigger game, when they'd ambushed Aurors or members of the Order of the Phoenix. And on those kinds of missions, Lucius had always been his preferred partner, because while Lucius might act the part of the spoiled aristocratic playboy - drawling and sneering, complaining about a broken finger-nail or a scuff-mark on his dragon-hide boots - the change in him when they put on their Death Eater robes and masks was astonishing, it was like watching the change in a pampered pet kneazle, lounging on a cushion, when it sees a bird on the window sill.

Lucius Malfoy ... he can still remember the first time he saw Lucius on the Hogwarts Express, he'd known what the Malfoy name meant – wizarding royalty – and he'd been amazed that the handsome teenager with the green and silver Slytherin prefect's badge pinned to his beautifully-cut robes and the gorgeous girl hanging off his arm could be bothered to talk to a shabby little first year. Lucius hadn't pried into his background, just eyed the old copy of _Advanced Potions_ he'd been flicking through, and asked him what House he thought he'd be Sorted into. When he'd said Slytherin, Lucius had grinned and said, _don't let the Sorting Hat put you in Ravenclaw, clever kid like you_ ... and by the time the train reached Hogwarts he'd been ready to do anything to win Lucius' approval. To his surprise, the Hat had offered him a choice of Gryffindor or Slytherin, and of course he'd chosen Slytherin – and when he walked up to the Slytherin table Lucius had shaken his hand and insisted that he sit next to him.

And Lucius is still his best friend, probably his _only_ friend; a member of the Board of Governors since he took over the position from his father Abraxas; and the implacable enemy of, as Lucius puts it, that Muggle-loving old fool, Albus Dumbledore – he's surprised that he hasn't got an owl from Lucius already, gloating over this afternoon's attacks on two Muggle-borns. And Dumbledore seems to be really rattled by the attacks on Penelope Clearwater and Hermione Granger, and he can understand that – the last time that the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Muggle-born girl died ... Dumbledore says that it was the Dark Lord's work, when he was a student at Hogwarts.

And that's something he finds hard to get his head around – the Dark Lord as a student, as a boy … it's impossible to imagine the Dark Lord as a _child_ when he's only ever known him as a wizard of terrifying power. He'd been mesmerized by the Dark Lord's palpable aura of power when he first met him – and the Dark Lord had promised him the things that he'd really wanted, the things that Lucius took so much for granted. The Dark Lord had offered him what Lucius had - power, position, and wealth - and no one needed to know about his filthy Muggle father, no one needed to know that he was a half-blood, the Dark Lord had told him, _that will be our little secret_.

And there'd been other inducements, too - not many witches became Death Eaters, he only knows of two, Bellatrix Lestrange and Alecto Carrow - but there'd been plenty of girls who liked to live dangerously, who thought it was exciting to get into bed with a wizard who had the Dark Mark burnt into his arm. Death Eater groupies, he thinks sourly - nutters, trophy hunters, the kind of girls who'd think it was a thrill to be able to say they'd slept with a werewolf the night before full moon. Girls who were nothing like Lily Evans ...

Lily Evans - he still refuses to think of her as Lily Potter – had never looked at, never dated any boy other than James Potter ... not that he cared if she threw herself away on that arsehole, he'd never been in _love_ with her, hell, he'd never been in love with any girl, and if it was love his wretched mother felt for the stinking Muggle who'd fathered him, he was damn glad that he'd never fallen in love. He wasn't in love with Lily Evans, but she was always civil to him – she hadn't held the Mudblood insult against him when Slughorn teamed them together for the NEWTs, even before he'd muttered an apology – and he'd _liked_ her. Lily was really something, she was smart, funny and tough, and he was convinced that if she hadn't been Muggle-born she would have been Sorted into Slytherin ... and Slughorn thought so, too, he was always teasing her about it.

No, he'd never been in love with Lily Evans, but they'd been friends, for what that was worth - and she was _gorgeous_. He'd wanted her as much as a hormone-raddled teenage boy could want the most beautiful girl in the school, and he hadn't been the only one, all the Slytherin boys in his year had noticed her – and talked dirty about her in the dormitory at night, and of course he'd joined in, he couldn't let anyone think he had feelings for a Mudblood Gryffindor, for James Potter's girlfriend.

But when the Dark Lord had called them together to tell them that it was the Potters that he was going after, that it was the Potter child that the prophecy pointed to, he hadn't been able to hide his thoughts - and the Dark Lord had been generous. The Dark Lord had been minded to give Lily to him as a plaything, as a reward, he'd said, "I can see you're … attracted … to the Mudblood witch. You can have her when I've killed Potter and the boy."

The others had sniggered – they'd known what this meant – a Memory Charm strong enough to obliterate Lily's memories of James and the baby, leaving her an empty shell, it would be worse than killing her, nearly as bad as a Dementor's Kiss, she'd be just a body to _use_. And he couldn't let that happen to her, and he couldn't let the brat die, either - for her sake he couldn't let it die, not when he knew how much she loved the wretched mewling little lump he'd seen in her arms that day he'd bumped into her in the Leaky Cauldron by carefully orchestrated chance – so he'd gone to Dumbledore, to the only wizard the Dark Lord ever feared. He'd gone to Dumbledore, and somehow the whole story had come out ... he'd thought it would be Azkaban, but Dumbledore had different ideas, and somehow it had come to this, and although he's kept out of Azkaban it sometimes feels as if he's in a prison of another sort, the Prisoner of Hogwarts.

He thinks, it's been twelve years, twelve years of teaching snotty brats, the pay is pathetic, and Lucius has offered any number of times to find something else for me – so why didn't I get out, why didn't I get out before Harry Potter came to Hogwarts? Harry Potter ... he clenches his fingers around his wand at the thought of the boy with James Potter's face and Lily Evan's eyes, and feels almost dizzy with hatred. He thinks, I was prepared to treat him as just another boy, just another ickle firstie, but he's the living image of his loathsome father, and just as arrogant, what did he say in his first Potions lesson? _I don't know. I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?_ - and some of the class had laughed, they'd actually _laughed_. Harry bloody Potter, the Boy Who Lived, he's like some god-damn Muggle celebrity, famous for being famous - and he's Dumbledore's favourite, just like his filthy father ...

And then he hears the crack of the house-elf Apparating - you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts or its grounds, but that rule doesn't apply to house-elves, to creatures that are forbidden to touch a wand - and he's been so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly jumps out of his skin. The elf is squeaking with excitement, one of the school governors is waiting for him in his office, _it's Mr Malfoy, Professor sir, please come at once _...

His first reaction is pleasure, because it will be good to see Lucius again, he doesn't see enough of him, hell, he sees more of Narcissa than he sees of his best friend – and then annoyance, because it's bloody irritating the way that Lucius lets himself into his office as if he owns the place, but if he put more powerful wards on the door someone might get hurt, he only wants to keep students out of his office, not put them into St Mungo's - and finally apprehension, because Lucius is up to something, he can feel it in his bones. And he knows that Lucius has played a part in the opening of the Chamber of Secrets - Draco boasts in the common room that his father knows all about the last time that the Chamber was opened ...

He hesitates only for a moment, he doesn't like the idea of leaving his post, but he really needs to see Lucius, and he can risk slipping away for a few minutes. The Bloody Baron is reliable, and Filius and Lockhart aren't far away, they're only up the stairs on the next floor, and while Lockhart is a fuckwit of the highest order - as he demonstrated so satisfactorily on the one and only evening that the Duelling Club met - Filius is a powerful wizard and an ex-duelling champion.

When he walks through the door, Lucius is lounging in a chair by the fire, boots up on another chair, a goblet of wine in one hand and a long roll of parchment in the other, a triumphant sneer on his face – and he can't help thinking how strongly Draco is stamped with his paternity. Draco has the same white-blond hair, grey eyes and pale, patrician face, the same born-to-rule attitude ... and Lucius is proud of the resemblance, proud of his only son and heir, and maybe a little over-protective of him, because there won't be any more sons, Lucius has told him that Narcissa went through hell when she was pregnant with Draco and there will be no more children, Lucius won't risk her health.

And something is definitely up, Lucius is as pleased as Punch about something, he looks like the cat that swallowed the canary – but while Lucius isn't a master of Occlumency, he's not entirely ignorant of the art, and he can't see Lucius' thoughts without using his wand.

Lucius offers him a goblet of wine - it's an excellent vintage, usually kept for those occasions when the Minister for Magic dines at Hogwarts, but the house-elves would know better than to serve inferior stuff to a Malfoy – pity he isn't the one pouring the wine or he might have been able to slip a few drops of Veritaserum into Lucius' drink and find out what's really going on. He inquires politely after Narcissa, tells Lucius that Draco is doing well, and waits to see what has really brought Lucius to Hogwarts.

Lucius doesn't waste time getting down to business, he wants to know what Dumbledore is doing about the attacks, so he tells him - six o'clock curfew, no evening activities, students escorted to each lesson by a teacher, no student to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher, and evening patrols of the castle by teachers, prefects and ghosts. Lucius raises an eyebrow - and then tells him that the Minister for Magic will be arriving shortly to take Hagrid to Azkaban, just as a precaution ...

Fudge is taking Hagrid to _Azkaban!_ The Headmaster will be furious ... and what a moron Fudge must be, Hagrid may have some very weird ideas about what makes a good pet – he hasn't forgotten when that blasted dog mangled his leg, he'd felt a complete idiot, and of course Harry-bloody-Potter had to come bursting into the staff-room and see his humiliation, see Filch bandaging his leg - but the idea that Hagrid is connected with the Chamber of Secrets is ludicrous. Bloody hell, Harry Potter is a Parselmouth, he's more likely to be the Heir of Slytherin than Rubeus Hagrid!

Lucius smirks at the expression on his face, then tosses the long roll of parchment to him. He glances through it ... an Order of Suspension, signed by all twelve governors! He's stunned, numb – Lucius has moved fast, _very_ fast, the attacks took place less than eight hours ago - and this document means that Dumbledore is out of Hogwarts, if Fudge doesn't over-ride the Order, and that's why Lucius is here, to stand over Fudge and make sure that doesn't happen.

He realises that Lucius is looking at him a little oddly, that he's crumpled the parchment ... he tosses the parchment back to him, and says nothing.

Lucius is leaning forward in his chair, refilling their goblets, saying something about Mudbloods and pure-bloods in his drawling, confident voice – but he's not really listening to Lucius. He's thinking about Hogwarts without Dumbledore, thinking about what it will be like to walk into the Great Hall every evening for dinner if Dumbledore isn't there ... and when he realises that Minerva will be taking Albus' place, Minerva will be Acting Headmistress, it feels oddly painful, as if there's something missing, as if there's a hole, a gaping wound ...

Lucius is saying something about Minerva, and then there's a tap at the door – speak of the devil, it's Minerva herself – giving them a disapproving look. And suddenly he's furiously angry with Minerva, he's thinking, fuck off, McGonagall, just fuck off, you're not Headmistress yet! I can take five minutes off to catch up with an old friend if I want to, and you needn't look at me like that, my friends are _my_ business, not yours, and Dumbledore trusts me, he _trusts_ me ...

Minerva tells Lucius that the Minister for Magic has arrived and the Headmaster has accompanied him to Hagrid's hut, and Lucius excuses himself, leaves with Minerva ... but there's still a couple of inches of wine in the bottle, he might as well finish it off before he goes back upstairs, so he slumps back in his chair, brooding and resentful, thinking, why don't you piss off, Minerva, and do something useful, like bed checks on your Gryffindors, make sure that your precious Harry Potter hasn't gone wandering off to catch the Heir of Slytherin single-handed!

He drains his goblet, and then he thinks, bugger it, what's the point? With Dumbledore gone, there'll be an attack a day ... and I don't care any more, I just don't care, I'm going to order up another couple of bottles of wine and get smashed ...


	2. Chapter 2: Lucius Malfoy

**There'll be killin's next!**

**Chapter 2: Lucius Malfoy**

It had been a long hard evening's work, ah, _persuading_ the recalcitrants, but finally he'd got all twelve signatures on the parchment and he couldn't resist gloating over his achievement - so he'd given orders that he was to be informed the moment that the Minister for Magic arrived at Hogwarts, and then he'd gone down to the dungeons, broken the lock on Severus' office - that wasn't difficult, it was only intended to keep out students - lit the fire with a flick of his wand, ordered a bottle of wine, and sent the house-elf who brought it to fetch the Head of Slytherin.

He throws off his long black travelling cloak and warms himself in front of the fire, cursing the Anti-Apparition wards which had meant such a long walk up to the castle through the chilly spring night air, and wonders when Fudge will arrive - because it would be best to confront Dumbledore in Fudge's presence, no, it is _essential_ to confront Dumbledore in Fudge's presence. Dumbledore might be getting on a bit, but he's still a wily old fox … and the only wizard that the Dark Lord ever feared.

He glances around the room, nothing has changed since the last time he was here, except that Severus has acquired a few more interesting specimens, floating in the glass jars on the shelves behind his desk - the desk itself is covered with the usual piles of essays, the tidy piles of unmarked essays and the somewhat less tidy piles of marked ones. He rifles through the marked piles, looking for one of Draco's assignments, and then settles into a chair by the fire and sips from his goblet of wine.

He nods approvingly - an excellent vintage, but the house-elves would know better than to serve inferior stuff to a Malfoy – and thinks, it will be good to see Severus again, I don't see enough of him, hell, Narcissa sees more of him than I do! I didn't see him at Christmas, we were away, Narcissa was a little run down and she needed a few weeks in a warmer climate. I didn't worry about Draco staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, he's pure-blood, he's got nothing to fear from Salazar Slytherin's monster, and I told him so, though I didn't tell him much. I didn't tell Draco anything I didn't want Severus to find out - I know that Severus wouldn't hesitate to bend the Ministry guidelines on the use of Legilimency, and why not? It's the Slytherin way, and Severus is a true Slytherin, despite his foreign father – the family were from Bulgaria or Hungary or somewhere like that, some miserable place that the Muggles wrecked in the Grindelwald war ... people say that a hundred million Muggles died in that war, pity it wasn't _more_.

Yes, he thinks, it's been an age since I saw Severus, and Severus is my best friend ... Wilkes and Rosier died the year before the Dark Lord fell, Dolohov and Lestrange are in Azkaban, and as for the rest - Avery is a pusillanimous twat, Carrow is an ugly uncouth brute even if he is a pure-blood, and Crabbe and Goyle ... what does Severus say about them? A Muggle saying, but amusing, _they can't walk and chew gum at the same time_. Yes, Severus is my best friend, he's been my closest friend since he graduated from Hogwarts, and he was always my preferred partner on a mission – when we worked together we _never_ failed, we _never_ disappointed the Dark Lord.

For a moment he feels nostalgic for the old days, thinks, we had some fun in those days, Merlin's beard we had _fun_. And the Dark Lord didn't mind if we amused ourselves with the Muggle bitches before we killed them – but Severus was always a bit funny about that, he never joined in. I don't know what his problem was - after all, a Muggle is hardly more than an animal, really ... damn Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act!

He remembers the fight in Flourish and Blotts, Weasley hadn't even tried to hex him, he hadn't fought like a wizard – he'd used his fists like a Muggle – and thinks, what a dreadful example the man sets for his sons, no wonder they brawl like foul, common, dirt-veined Muggles! Draco told me how the youngest son attacked him at last year's Slytherin-Hufflepuff match, a disgusting display of Muggle duelling, though it's some consolation that Draco won the fight, gave the other boy a bloody nose ...

His lip curls with disgust at the memory, and he thinks, Arthur Weasley's fascination with Muggle rubbish, with their pathetic substitutes for magic ... it's _revolting_ ... the fellow loves Muggles so much he should break his wand and go and live amongst them, like a filthy Squib. And it's galling that the Weasley line is as old and pure as the Malfoys', galling that they are distantly related by blood, galling that there are six sons in the Weasley brood of blood traitors – all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford ...

And then he thinks, Weasley might have a different attitude towards Muggles if one of his sons were to get mixed up with a Mudblood - Draco tells me that his youngest boy is friendly with the Mudblood Granger, oh yes, Arthur might think differently if that becomes more than _friendship_. And that's why Mudbloods shouldn't be allowed into Hogwarts, it leads to mixed marriages, pollution of the blood - Andromeda Black met the Mudblood Tonks at Hogwarts, to the eternal shame of her family. And maybe that's what brought her cousin Sirius back to our side - he must have come to his senses when his friend Potter disgraced an old and honourable pure-blood name by actually _marrying_ a filthy Mudblood and breeding half-bloods with her.

The Dark Lord had the right ideas about Muggles and Mudbloods - I can't understand why my father wasn't more enthusiastic about him – the Dark Lord knew that if we can't keep the Mudbloods out of Hogwarts, we can't keep the Muggles out of our world, and that's why he gave me the diary, he told me it would release Slytherin's monster from the Chamber of Secrets and purge Hogwarts of the Mudbloods.

Filthy Mudbloods ... Karkaroff is a traitor and a coward, but at least he runs a proper school, not like _Dumbledore_ - they don't admit Mudbloods at Durmstrang, and they teach the Dark Arts, not just the Defence rubbish that Draco is supposedly learning at Hogwarts. And Dumbledore doesn't even do a good job of _that_, I can't understand why he keeps passing over Severus' application for the position, he hired that pansy Lockhart this year – and the fellow can't even handle Cornish pixies! I would have sent Draco to Durmstrang, despite Narcissa's fussing that it was too far away to send regular owls, if I hadn't known that Severus would be here at Hogwarts to keep an eye on him.

And then he thinks, with a rush of tenderness, I couldn't have refused my darling Narcissa, I couldn't have refused my pure-blood princess - Draco is everything to her, her only son, and I couldn't give her more sons, I couldn't give her the children she wanted so desperately. We tried for Draco for four years after we were married and I couldn't understand it, I couldn't understand why she wasn't getting pregnant - it was a nasty shock when the Healers at St Mungo's told us that I was the one with the problem. No, I can't refuse Narcissa anything ... and Severus is Draco's Head of House, he's my old friend - Severus will tell me if some scheming little Mudblood trollop catches Draco's eye, and then something just might happen to her in the summer holidays, nothing crude and obvious like the _Avada Kedavra_, nothing that would attract the Ministry's attention - a car accident, perhaps, Muggles die every day in car accidents. Severus would help me to arrange that, he's good with Muggle things – maybe I should have taken Muggle Studies, like Severus - _know your enemy_, as Severus said when he was choosing his OWL subjects.

And not for the first time, he wonders – why has Severus stayed at Hogwarts for twelve years, when he was so unhappy here as a student? Those damned Gryffindors never left him alone, they even tried to kill him once – and he was _furious_ when the Dark Lord ordered him here. He's a genius with potions, he could have done so much better for himself ... he's one of only half a dozen wizards in Europe who'd be up to brewing the new Wolfsbane Potion, which is ironic considering how much he hates werewolves. And I know exactly what his salary is, and even with his allowance as a Head of House it's pitiful - no wonder that pathetic old queer Slughorn was always cadging sugared pineapple, that man has no sense of proper wizarding pride despite his abilities and his pedigree, the disgusting way that he favoured Mudbloods and half-bloods when he was Head of Slytherin ... and a half-blood is only one step up from a filthy Mudblood!

Severus always says that he won't desert the post that the Dark Lord gave to him - does he really think that the Dark Lord will return? It's been eleven years since the Dark Lord fell, and there's been no sign, nothing, the Dark Mark hasn't burnt once. No, the Dark Lord isn't coming back, he _must_ be dead. That business with Quirrell has spooked Severus, though, he actually seems to believe Dumbledore's ridiculous story that the Dark Lord was possessing Quirrell. I suppose he's worried because if the Dark Lord ever does return, he'll be in for a severe beating - the Dark Lord might even kill him. Severus wriggled out of trouble when the Dark Lord fell, wriggled out of trouble in a masterly fashion, spun Dumbledore a tale of deepest remorse, fooled him completely - what did Dumbledore say in the Wizengamot? _Severus Snape is now no more a Death Eater than I am_. Oh, Severus is a bright lad, all right - unlike most of the rest of us, he never spent a day in Azkaban – but the Dark Lord won't see it that way, he was always vengeful, and if he ever returns, Severus and Karkaroff will have a lot of explaining to do.

And then he thinks, with a thrill of fear, if the Dark Lord isn't finished, if he ever comes back- we'll all have a lot of explaining to do, all of us who walked free from Azkaban will have to explain ourselves, because only Bella and her little gang ever made any serious effort to find the Dark Lord, the rest of us fell over ourselves to distance ourselves from him. Not that I didn't suffer for his sake, I was in Azkaban for a week, I had to endure the humiliation of a full trial in Courtroom Ten - thank Merlin my father knew so many members of the Wizengamot – and I'm still on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's watch list! Every time the Ministry has a crackdown on the Dark Arts I have to endure the Aurors searching my home, upsetting my wife, it's outrageous that a _Malfoy_ has to tolerate such humiliations ...

The door bangs open and Severus sweeps in, black robes billowing, the thin face expressionless and the black eyes guarded, but he knows that his friend is both pleased to see him and seething with fury. He thinks, when you've known Severus as long as I have, you can read the signs – he's really peeved, he knows that I'm behind all this trouble at Hogwarts and he doesn't like it all, no, he doesn't like being left in the dark about the Chamber of Secrets. He must be dying to know how I've managed it – it's a good thing I'm the one pouring the wine, or he might slip a few drops of Veritaserum into my drink - but this is _my_ affair, I won't have Severus interfering ... and he'll be glad enough when he's appointed as Headmaster, the first Slytherin Headmaster since Phineas Nigellus, and about time, too!

He greets Severus warmly, pours him a goblet of wine, and leans back in his chair, studying him appraisingly, thinking, Severus looks good, very graceful and dangerous, and every inch the pure-blood wizard. I'd never say that he was handsome, but he's got presence, and the attractive witches notice him, nearly as much as they notice me - Narcissa admires him, and he certainly admires her!

He can't help smirking a little at the thought of how much his best friend would like to get into bed with his beautiful wife, and then he thinks - how Severus has changed since he was an ickle firstie, I thought I'd never seen such a scruffy unprepossessing little first year. He was all temper and talent in those days, he totally lacked polish - he learned _that_ from me. Merlin knows what his family were like, he never talks about them - all I know is that his father's family were refugees from the Grindelwald war and his mother was a Slytherin. No money, that was clear … the father drank, I think, and they lived in some Muggle slum - no wonder Severus loathes Muggles, imagine being surrounded by them, _urgh_. And who would have thought that one day Severus Snape would be Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry … and he'll owe it to me, he owes everything to me, really – after all, I was the one who saw his potential, I was the one who recommended him to the Dark Lord.

Severus inquires politely after Narcissa, he asks about Draco – the boy is doing well - and then they get down to the business at hand ... the two Mudbloods who were attacked this today, and it's gratifying that Miss Granger is amongst them, Draco would be top of all his classes if it wasn't for that jumped up little bitch. It sounds like Dumbledore has panicked – six o'clock curfew, no evening activities, students escorted to each lesson by a teacher, no student to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher, evening patrols of the castle by teachers, prefects and ghosts – and he thinks with satisfaction, it's too late _now_, Dumbledore, I've got all twelve signatures on the Order of Suspension and you'll be out of Hogwarts this evening, Merlin willing.

He tells Severus that the Minister for Magic will be arriving shortly to take Hagrid to Azkaban, just as a precaution - apparently Hagrid was involved in a previous incident fifty years ago, which, incidentally, was why Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts ... and watches in amusement as Severus looks contemptuous, no, Severus doesn't believe for a moment that the half-breed savage could be connected to the Chamber of Secrets, despite his interest in dangerous beasts. What an idiot Fudge is, when it's blindingly obvious who the Heir of Slytherin must have been. Bloody hell, Harry Potter is more likely to be the Heir of Slytherin than Rubeus Hagrid! And that's a mystery – how is it that a Gryffindor half-blood possesses that rare and precious gift, the ability to speak Parseltongue?

And then he thinks, resentfully, that fool Fudge is the Minister for Magic, a position that I can never aspire to, all because of a few youthful, ah, _indiscretions_. I was cleared by a full hearing of the Wizengamot, but I'll never be Minister now, too many people whisper behind my back - and that blood traitor Arthur Weasley is one of them, the bastard!

He tosses the long roll of parchment to Severus and watches him glance through it ... his face twitches and he crumples the parchment before tossing it back to him. For a moment he's puzzled, Severus isn't as pleased as he'd expected at the news that Dumbledore has been suspended. And then he realises – of course, Severus is worried about his young Slytherins, and annoyed that McGonagall will be Acting Headmistress.

He refills their goblets, points out that only Mudbloods have been attacked, hints that he has reason to be absolutely confident that the Slytherins are perfectly safe – Slytherin's monster would hardly attack his own pure-blood students, would it? Really, Severus, he drawls, you don't think I'd risk the life of my only son and heir, do you? And as for Minerva McGonagall - she won't last, she's a plodder ...

But he doesn't get to finish what he was going to say, because he's interrupted by a tap at the door – speak of the devil, it's the old cat herself, sticking her face in to give Severus a disapproving look and to tell them the Minister has arrived, and that the Headmaster has accompanied him to Hagrid's hut. He ignores the look of intense dislike that McGonagall gives him, suavely apologises for distracting Severus from his duties, and assures her that he has business with the Headmaster touching upon the same matter that has brought Fudge to Hogwarts. He insists that he needs no escort through the grounds, thank you very much, he can find his own way to Hagrid's hut - but the ridiculous woman insists upon accompanying him as far as the Entrance Hall, for all the world as if he was some unsavoury visitor intent on pinching the household silver!

He strolls down to Hagrid's hut, but although he's smiling with anticipation at the prospect of driving Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, he can't ignore the fact that his heart is starting to beat a little faster at the thought of the coming confrontation. He raps loudly on the door, Dumbledore opens it but he doesn't greet him - just walks straight in and lets Fudge know that he's pleased to see him ... Hagrid isn't pleased to see _him_, though, not at all, and his slobbering mutt starts to growl.

"What're you doing here?" says Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

He remembers when the oaf dared to lay hands on him at Flourish and Blotts, how could the man imagine for an instant that anything other than _duty_ would induce a Malfoy to set foot in his hovel?

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your – er – d'you call this a house?" he says, looking around the squalid single room and thinking, this place _smells_. "I simply called at the school and was told that the Headmaster was here."

Dumbledore, he is delighted to see, looks furious. "And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" he asks.

He savours the pleasure of dismissing Dumbledore for a moment ... the Muggle-loving old fool is the worst thing that ever happened to Hogwarts ... then pulls out the parchment.

"_Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore," he says, lazily, "But the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension – you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school."

Fudge panics, just as he expected.

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," says Fudge, looking alarmed. "Dumbledore suspended ... no, no ... the last thing we want just now ..."

He congratulates himself on having the foresight to be present at the meeting between Fudge and Dumbledore, because Fudge is a weak reed - he bends in the strongest breeze, and Dumbledore could easily persuade Fudge to exercise the Ministry's plenary powers over Hogwarts or to send a flurry of owls to the entire Board if he wasn't here to manage the situation.

"The appointment – or suspension – of the Headmaster is a matter for the governors," he says, smoothly, "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks ..."

Fudge is in a complete funk now, his upper lip is actually _sweating _... oh, this is delicious.

"Now look, Lucius, if _Dumbledore_ can't stop them," he says, "I mean to say, who _can?_"

He smiles, nastily, and thinks, _I can_ ... whenever it suits me, and when this is over, Arthur Weasley's daughter will be in St Mungo's, in the same ward as the Longbottoms - and no one will be interested in her father's ridiculous Muggle Protection Act!

"That remains to be seen," he says, "but as all twelve of us have voted ..."

Hagrid leaps to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling, and roars, "An' how many did yeh have to threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?"

Really, he thinks, that is such a crude way of putting it, I prefer to call it _persuasion_ ... and I can't let this pass ...

"Dear, dear, you know that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one day, Hagrid," he says. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

Hagrid completely loses his head, starts shouting in his loutish peasant patois, "Yeh can' take Dumbledore! Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won't stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"

For a moment he hopes that the half-giant will do something violent, really get himself into trouble, but Dumbledore is intervening, telling Hagrid to calm himself.

Dumbledore is looking at him, locking bright blue eyes with his grey ones - and Dumbledore is a Legilimens. He throws up his defences, shielding all thoughts of the diary, Dumbledore mustn't know about the Dark Lord's diary, Dumbledore mustn't know how it got into Ginny Weasley's caudron. He thinks, I'm not a master of Occlumency, not like Severus - he could lie to the Dark Lord himself - but Dumbledore won't be able to see my thoughts without using his wand, and he wouldn't dare breach Ministry guidelines on the use of the spell, not in front of Fudge ...

But Dumbledore is conceding defeat, saying, "If the governors want my removal, I shall of course step aside."

Fudge is stuttering, Hagrid is growling ... but he's wary of openly showing his jubilation, Dumbledore still has his eyes fixed on his ...

"However," says Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly, "You will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

He thinks, what in Merlin's name is Dumbledore raving about? Is the only wizard the Dark Lord ever feared going _senile?_ And this has turned out to be a piece of cake, the old man is giving up without a fight – and I don't know why I was ever in awe of Albus Dumbledore, I graduated from Hogwarts over twenty years ago and I'm a governor of the school now, I'm not some snotty student he can put into detention!

He bows, ironically, "Admirable sentiments. We shall miss your – er - highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any – ah – _'killin's'_."

But as he strides to the cabin door, opens it, and bows Dumbledore out, he thinks, I hope there are killings, four Mudbloods have been attacked, and no deaths yet, it's damned disappointing ...

Fudge and Hagrid are tagging behind, but he pays no attention to them, he's thinking, it's a Saturday night and I told Narcissa not to wait up for me, I'll persuade Severus to come out and celebrate with me - but not in Hogsmeade, it may be the only purely wizarding settlement in Britain but it's also a dreary little village and there's nowhere to go at this time of night other than the Hog's Head. Muggle-baiting is out of the question, but we can Floo down to London, visit one of the more exclusive establishments in Knockturn Alley, have a few drinks, hire a couple of girls, and really make a night of it - just like in the old days ...


	3. Chapter 3: Rubeus Hagrid

**There'll be killin's next!**

**Chapter 3: Rubeus Hagrid**

He's thinking, Aragog won't even say the name of the monster that lurks in the Chamber of Secrets, and Acromantula can take care of themselves, they're not afraid of anything in the Forbidden Forest except the Centaurs - the monster must be something really nasty, something really vicious, if it can frighten even the spiders. And the spiders are leaving the castle, just like they did last time, all afternoon he's been watching them leave the castle and head into the Forest.

The monster, whatever it is, is _cunning_ – it attacked Penelope Clearwater and Hermione Granger while the castle was deserted, it attacked when almost everybody was out on the Quidditch pitch ... and thank Merlin the girls aren't dead, as soon as Professor Snape can brew the Mandrake Restorative Draught they'll be right as rain, but how long will it be before there's another attack? How long before a Muggle-born is _killed?_ The whole castle is in an uproar, the governors of the school and the Ministry have been informed - and Dumbledore says that the Minister for Magic himself is coming to Hogwarts, the Minister wants to see him. The last time they broke his wand but he was allowed to stay at Hogwarts – but this time it could be worse, he might be sent away from Hogwarts, and then where would he go? Last time it was only expulsion, because he was still a kid, and Tom had stood up for him, said that he hadn't meant any harm, said that he hadn't meant for the girl to be killed, but this time it could be something worse.

He thinks, I dunno, Tom was a prefect and Head Boy ... and he seemed decent enough to me, all the teachers liked Tom, not just his Head of House, Professor Slughorn - Tom was a great favourite of the Defence teacher, old Professor Merrythought, and _he_ was the Head of Ravenclaw. And all the good-looking girls were after Tom, even Minerva McGonagall - but if Dumbledore says Tom Riddle is ... _him_, if Dumbledore says that Tom Riddle is You-Know-Who, then it must be so. Dumbledore wouldn't say it, if it wasn't so.

Then he thinks about the monster again, it must be something truly horrible, a Dark creature - not like Fluffy or Norbert, because Fluffy was a great big softy, really. Well, he was a Cerberus and a trained guard-dog, and he'd go for anyone he didn't know, but apart from that he was as big a sook as Fang ... And as for dragons, well, they're seriously misunderstood creatures - they don't bother anyone who doesn't bother them first, and they've got to eat, haven't they?

He remembers the summer holidays before the year his dad died, as a special treat they'd gone on a camping trip to Wales, it's the only time he's ever Apparated – Side-Along Apparition, of course – because he'd been expelled in third year, and so he'd never qualified for the licence. They'd camped rough, sleeping under cloaks propped on sticks, but it had been a wonderful time together, and he can still remember his first dragon - the Welsh Green cob that roared overhead one morning, far larger, louder and more impressive than any Muggle aeroplane he'd ever seen. The dragon had been flying very low, and as it passed overhead it had spouted thin jets of fire and barrel-rolled - and he'd seen that it had a sheep clamped in its talons. His dad had said, _That's a male on a courtship flight, trying to impress his lady friend - he's taking her a present, to prove that he can bring food to the nest when there's chicks to feed. _ And he'd known then, with absolute certainty, what he was going to do when he graduated from Hogwarts – work at the Transylvanian Dragon Research and Breeding Facility, the world-famous reservation for Hungarian Horntails, the most dangerous dragons in the world.

He sniffs a little, remembering Norbert, he'd known straightaway what it was when he'd got the precious bundle back to his hut and unwrapped it – only Ridgebacks have black eggs. There'd been the anxious weeks stoking the fire - luckily he didn't have to worry about over-heating it, the hotter a dragon egg is, the quicker it hatches – before the little tyke cracked his egg ... and then an even more anxious time until he could see that Norbert was thriving, because brandy and blood is only an approximation of the stuff the mothers regurgitate for their chicks until they can take solid food. He thinks, it broke me heart to part with the dear little fella ... worst day of me life really, apart from the day me Dad died, the day I got expelled from Hogwarts, and the day I had ter take little Harry to the house of those ruddy awful Muggles ...

Then Fang whimpers in his basket, to tell him that there's something moving in the darkness outside the hut, and instinctively he grips the stock of his cross-bow, because he's not much of a wizard, he can do a few simple spells – Engorgement Charms and the like – but he only got a couple of years of education and there's not a lot that you can do with a broken wand, anyway. But with his cross-bow he could stop a charging Hippogriff in its tracks, not that he'd ever want to, they're magnificent creatures and easy enough to handle if you just treat them with respect ...

There's a tap on the door, and his heart leaps into his mouth, it must be the Minister! But he's not opening his door, unarmed, to _anyone_ - not after dark and with a monster on the loose - so he still has his cross-bow in his hands when he flings the door open, Fang barking loudly at his heels.

It's Harry and Ron, what are they up to? And they'd better not be here when Fudge arrives, Merlin knows what he might think, luring students out of the castle after curfew ... it wouldn't look good, would it?

Distractedly, he makes tea, slices some fruitcake ... and then there's another knock at the door. The kids bundle themselves into a corner, under Harry's dad's old Invisibility Cloak, and he opens the door again. And this time it is the Minister – and Dumbledore. Well of course the Headmaster has come, Dumbledore knows that it wasn't Aragog, he's _harmless_, he never hurt that girl, _never_ ...

"Bad business, Hagrid," says Fudge, in clipped, unfriendly tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

He looks pleadingly at Dumbledore, protests his innocence - surely Dumbledore won't stand by and let the Minister send him away from Hogwarts ...

The Headmaster tells Fudge that he trusts him, but Fudge says something about his record – and the school governors. Dumbledore looks really angry, says that taking him away won't help ...

_Take him away? _Fudge is speaking again, says it's his duty to take him away.

"Take me?" he says, trembling. "Take me where?"

But he can guess the answer before Fudge gives it ...

"For a short stretch only," says Fudge, not meeting his eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology ..."

So it's Azkaban – Azkaban, the wizard prison, and he's heard about the Dementors that guard it. He's heard about how they suck the life out of a prisoner, how they feed on all your happy memories, until all you can think of is the most horrible thing that's ever happened to you. He thinks of the worst moment in his life, he's twelve years old and his Dad is dying in St Mungo's ... but maybe there's something even worse, the day his Mum left them - he can't really remember that day very well, he was only three, but he can remember that his Dad was really cut up about it ...

"Not Azkaban?" he croaks, numb and hopeless, because if he defies the Minister he'll only be in more trouble, they'll send the Aurors to arrest him, and then it will all come out about his Mum - and everyone will say that Dumbledore was wrong to trust him, wrong to give him a second chance, wrong to give a job to a vicious half-giant.

But before Fudge can say anything, there's another loud knock on the door, Dumbledore opens it, and Lucius Malfoy strides in, swathed in a long black travelling cloak.

He remembers the fight in Flourish & Blott – and he'd meant what he said about bad blood, Abraxas Malfoy had been a right arrogant git when he was at Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy was just as bad, and young Draco is shaping up to be a chip off the old block – and every one of them a Slytherin, there's not even been a Ravenclaw amongst them! And it was Draco who went running to Professor McGonagall last year with a story about a dragon – he'd nearly got all of them into terrible trouble, 'cause the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has a very bad attitude towards interestin' creatures.

He thinks, bloody Malfoys, the whole family is rotten to the core - damn and blast the lot of 'em! And then he says, furiously, "What're you doing here? Get outta my house!"

Malfoy looks contemptuously around his home – he'd dearly like to punch the man – says something dismissive, and then that he called at the school and was told that the Headmaster was here.

Dumbledore speaks politely. "And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" he asks.

"_Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore," Malfoy says, lazily, "But the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension – you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school."

He struggles to take it in, _Order of Suspension_, what in Merlin's name does that mean?

The Headmaster is silent, Fudge is twittering away, Malfoy is saying something about Dumbledore failing to stop the attacks and all twelve of the governors have voted ... and now he understands – they're sacking Dumbledore! Have the governors gone _mad?_ Do they want Muggle-borns attacked, _killed?_

He remembers the reports of the outcome of Malfoy's trial - splashed all over the _Daily Prophet_, it was - cleared of all charges on the grounds of bewitchment under the Imperius Curse, what a load of dung!

He leaps to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling, and roars, "An' how many did yeh have to threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?"

Malfoy sneers, says something about Azkaban, but Azkaban isn't important any more. Doesn't Fudge understand? Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the world, the only wizard You-Know-Who ever feared – and without Dumbledore, anything could happen, there's dozens of Muggle-born students at Hogwarts, they'll be _slaughtered_, there'll be an attack a day with Dumbledore gone!

He shouts, "Yeh can' take Dumbledore! Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won't stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"

He's so distraught, he doesn't know what he might do, but Dumbledore is telling him, sharply, to calm down, and he subsides.

Dumbledore is looking at Malfoy, saying, "If the governors want my removal, I shall of course step aside."

He can't imagine Hogwarts without Dumbledore – in his mind, the two are inseparable - he growls, "_No!_"

But Dumbledore is speaking again, very slowly and clearly, and for a second he could swear that Dumbledore's eyes flicker towards the corner where Harry and Ron are hiding. "You will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

He thinks, the Headmaster knows Harry and Ron are here, I bet a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore can see right through an Invisibility Cloak - great man, Dumbledore, the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. He's telling the kids something important, I don't understand it myself, but it's important ...

Malfoy is bowing and smirking, and showing Dumbledore out the door - he's as pleased as Punch – and Malfoy's the one who ought to be in Azkaban, the nasty Muggle-hating bastard!

Fudge is fiddling with his bowler hat, waiting for him ... but he's hesitating, he has important information, too. Then he says, carefully, "If anyone wanted to find out some _stuff_, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the _spiders_. That'd lead em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Fudge is looking at him as if he's gone bonkers ...

"All right, I'm comin'," he says, as he pulls on his moleskin overcoat. But as he's about to follow Fudge through the door he remembers Fang. "An' someone'll need to feed Fang while I'm away," he says, loudly.

_The Transylvanian Dragon Research and Breeding Facility is borrowed, with thanks, from Crookshanks22's story "A Romance with Dragons"._


End file.
